


Auskosten

by autovampirism (Autovampirism)



Category: Boyfriend to Death (Visual Novels)
Genre: Blood, Blood Kink, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Desperation, Kidnapping, Knifeplay, M/M, Ownership, POV Male Character, Pain, Rape/Non-con Elements, Self-Harm, most of it is consensual its just the whole kidnapping thing that isn't
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:22:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27974372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Autovampirism/pseuds/autovampirism
Summary: Strade's route but make it gay and hornier (You survive!)
Relationships: Strade (BTD/TNR)/Reader
Comments: 10
Kudos: 38





	Auskosten

**Author's Note:**

> hey hi. i've recently found this game, and people who like it too, and i haven't been this happy in a long time. but since there's limited strade content i had to satiate my gay ass somehow. so i wrote out what i'd do during his route, how things would deviate from the choices given, etc. it's just a fantasized self insert tbh. plus im trans so this was a Big Gender Euphoria experience. i had so much fun. as always don't try any of this at home without being safe, and having a Consenting Partner. fantasy is only fun if both of you are 1000% into it. please don't misuse this fiction, if self harm is a trigger for you, Don't Read This!! theres a lot of it. this is meant to thrill, not harm. take care of yourself first. love you. hope you enjoy. <3

As I lay back on my bed, I sigh to myself. School has been so taxing on my brain and body... I feel like I'm not even a person half the time, just a file cabinet full of transcriptions of endless lectures. The only thing I've done for myself is keep myself clean, which I'm sure my classmates silently appreciate. It's the little victories. But I can't continue this pattern of waking up, going to class, coming back, and repeat for two more years. I need to get out, even if I don't have friends to go with, just to get my mind in a different place.  
I sit up with a groan and rub my eyes. Where would I even go? I've been here for two years and I still don't know this town at all. I can't just stare blankly at the tile floor of Target again. I want to be present, I want to feel tonight. I want to feel good.  
Suddenly it pinged in my mind, I picked up fliers from outside the student center last week when I had a similar idea in mind but.. not enough strength. I can do it tonight, this is my night to experience a life that isn't in the books. Even if it's mundane, it's better than routine.  
I swing my legs off the side of the bed and hoist myself up from my warm sanctuary. I figure the fliers are on top of my dresser, amongst the pile of loose leaf papers telling me when all these school events are.. All of which I wish I had interest in. Maybe it's because it's a smaller town, but I feel like no one really "gets" me. My interests are fairly normal, horror movies, metal music and the like. But I dress the part so.. No one really approaches me. And I sure as hell am not gonna take my chances on getting disgusted looks when I'm already putting myself out there. I don't have any energy for that at all. So I wait and pray for someone to finally see me and smile. With my track record, I should've given up years ago but hey. Can't fault a guy for dreaming.  
I walk over to the dresser and start thumbing through papers. 

"Ah! There you are." I say as I find the three brightly colored fliers. Maybe I should've picked up more, but this'll do for tonight. I hope none of these are shops, most of them will be closing soon if they haven't already. Nervously, I scan each one trying to get a vibe from a single piece of paper. One catches my eye, The Braying Mule. It looks really cozy, the whole room that's shown is very warmly lit, the walls are dark.. That plus a drink might really hit the spot. Not to mention their tagline is "Friendliest Bar In Town", which I'm praying is true. If nothing else I'll have a nice two sentence conversation with the bartender, and sometimes that has to be enough. I've made up my mind, I'm gonna head down there.  
I look down at myself, still wearing my clothes from class that day. This is fine for a casual bar right? I'm actually wearing jeans today so, practically my Sunday's best. I take a deep breath in, gather my strength and keys, and quickly make my way out the door. Out of my head, and into the night. 

The bar is just as, if not warmer than the picture showed. It's comforting, cozy, and unfortunately for me a little more crowded than I was expecting. I've never been too good in crowds, so I hesitate a little before walking forward. I've got this, I can do this, but I still can't manage to put on a confident face. I’m real shit at hiding my emotions, so I'm pretty sure everyone can see the little raincloud I'm carrying on a leash. It follows. I worm my way through the people, trying my damnedest to not bump into anyone. With my luck, no dice. 

"Ah! I'm s-sorry." I stutter out to the man I bumped into, and he barely acknowledges my presence. A familiar mix of relief and pain courses through me, and I try to shake it off. I spot a little corner booth in the back, and figure that's my best shot at comfort. I'm making a conscious effort to control my breathing now, reminding myself that this is supposed to be a relaxing outing.  
I slump down in the booth with an exhale. Okay. Breathe. I'm here, I'm present. My heartbeat calms as I breathe, and I finally allow myself to look around and take in my surroundings fully, not including the crowd.  
This place IS really nice. I've had a lot of trouble finding comfort since leaving my hometown, but this reminds me of some of the restaurants I used to go to with my family. Used to. I don't let myself linger on that too long, and decide to focus hard on what's around me.  
A shiny wooden table sits in front of me, barely a scratch on it. Coasters are already set up in anticipation, with little advertisements for different beer companies on each one. I always thought that was strange since you cover it up with your drink, but it reminds me that I need one so I guess it works just fine. Just as I'm about to make my way over to the bar, quickly and quietly, I hear a voice. 

"Hey there!" I nearly jumped, I didn't notice how far in my head I was. I almost didn't realize he was speaking to me at first. He has a thick accent.. German maybe? I've only heard him speak two words, but the thought hangs in my mind. Shoulder length dark brown hair partially falls into his face, and while I'm looking -staring, at this point- I notice his eyes. Oh god. His eyes are beautiful, they're practically shining. Golden eyes... I've never seen anything like it in real life. I'm entranced by them. But I'm snapped out of it when he sets a beer down in front of me, and flashes me a bright, welcoming smile. 

"You look down, this one's on me." He says gently, comfortingly. My heart skips a beat. He... bought this for me? No one's ever bought me a drink before, never mind a stranger. Maybe that flier wasn't kidding about the whole "Friendliest Bar In Town" thing. I shake myself out of my trance and try to form words for him. 

"Oh, wow. Thank you! I was just about to get one myself." I smile nervously at him, trying to hide my increasingly red face with my hair as subtly as I can. Every time I look at him I notice something new I like. His tanned skin, muscular build, light scruff on his face, and a scar running from his jaw to the edge of his lips. I wonder what he must do for a living, for him to get sun, those muscles, and especially that scar. And that's when I realize I've been staring at his mouth for longer than I should. I quickly look down to my beer, hoping he didn't notice, but something in the back of my mind told me he did. Though despite that he doesn't mention it, and he slides into the seat in front of me. Holy shit I'm so glad I came out tonight. 

"So, what's your name?" He leans forward, crossing his arms on the table casually. He seems so intent on listening to me, I can't wrap my brain around it. Why is someone so beautiful paying any mind to me? On top of that, being generous and kind. Half of me wants to be cynical, but the other much stronger half says to enjoy it while it lasts. And pray you don't scare him away. I really don't want those eyes to look at me that way. 

"My name is Y/N. It's nice to meet you." I try to keep my voice as steady as possible but as soon as the words come out I'm immediately second guessing myself. That's how educational games talk, why am I talking like Reader Rabbit? He must've seen the momentary panic in my eyes, because he chuckles a little before speaking again. 

"Hey now! No need to be so formal!" His jovial tone eases my worry a bit, it doesn't seem like he was put off by my nervous bullshit. I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding and chuckle to myself, too. 

"Name's Strade." His eyes lock with mine as he says that, and suddenly the chatter of the bar fades to the back of my mind. He was looking at me before, but for some reason now it feels much more intimate. Like he can see into my mind, and likes what he sees. I've never felt like this with a stranger before... God, I need to calm down, we just met. I make myself look down to my beer again, but I can't help smiling. His energy is infectious. I feel like a kid getting a crush for the first time. 

"So what's on your mind, buddy?" He tilts his head to the side as if to say 'I'm listening.' It weighs heavy on my mind how unfamiliar I am with being asked that, I almost don't know what to say. I just hope I don't say too much, he didn't ask to be my therapist. 

"Ah, uh.. I've just been going to school, y'know. It's been really busy." I pick at the coaster my beer sits on, thinking through what to say next. How honest should I be? He seems to want to listen, but I don't know how much of my sob story will make that drive last. 

"Sounds like a drag." He gives me this look, he seems genuinely upset for me. It's not pity, it's him thinking my situation should be different. The thought makes my heart skip. 

"You haven't gotten out with your friends in awhile, then?" He's trying to understand my situation better, I know but.. The question still stings. I haven't made a single friend in the entire time I've been here. I want to know so desperately what I'm doing wrong.. But if this guy is talking to me maybe this is a step in the right direction? He seems to have noticed my silence in trying to figure out how to respond, and his eyebrows raise slightly in concern. 

"..No friends, liebchen?" My eyes dart up to his, and I feel my face heat up, in both embarrassment for my situation, and because I know what that means. I've been taking a German course at school, I'm not fluent by any means but.. He did just say that to me, right? Is this beer going to my head? I have to look away from him to keep from turning into a red version of Violet Beauregarde.

"I, uh.. I've just had bad luck, I guess. But.. you've been so kind, maybe my luck is turning around." I laugh a bit, and try to say that last part as casually as I possibly can.. Though probably to no avail. He sees my heart right there on my sleeve, I'd bet anything. I look back up to him for a moment, and see a smile tugging at his lips again, making me smile even bigger myself. He gets prettier by the second, I swear. 

"That's the spirit, Y/N! Cheering up is what coming to a bar is for, right?" His voice is almost sing-song, he's so cheerful. I could so get used to being around him. I hope he wants to be around me. I hope I don't bring him down. 

"Yeah, totally!" There's a very brief lull where we just enjoy the moment.. Before he said that, I almost forgot where we were. Then I remember my other reason for coming here, my beer, which now is almost completely empty. Strade follows my gaze down to my drink and grins wide again.

"You drink pretty quick!" He nods in approval, almost, almost impressed. My drinking speed was more of a nervous habit, but now I really want to impress him. I don't know how, but I'm determined. 

"I didn't even notice." I say honestly. He laughs at that. 

We talk for another five minutes or so, he tells me this is his favorite bar in town. He comes here all the time, he says it's the only place for miles with 'The Good Stuff'. I'm almost tempted to ask him about his life before this town when I catch a glance up at the clock and realize how late it is. I should be getting home but.. I don't want to go alone. Not after tonight. I gather up every amount of courage I can possibly muster, and ask. 

"It's uh.. it's getting late.. Do you wanna get out of here?" I have my head bowed a little in anticipation for him to decline, and look up at him trying to get across what I mean. He stops for a moment, looks me up and down in a way that's slow enough to already send a shiver down my spine. His lips curl up to the side in a smirk, and his gaze changes from cheerful to something much.. Darker. My heart was already in my throat from asking the question, and now his unexpected response has it racing. 

"...Alright. Let’s go." He says in a low, approving growl. I have to make a conscious effort not to have my eyes go wide in shock. Oh my god, how is this happening? Did I make a deal with the devil in my sleep? We both get up from our seats, take our glasses to the bar, Strade leaving a generous tip in the tip jar. I smile even brighter. This guy is incredible. I never thought being depressed in a bar would get me a night with a guy I literally can't keep my eyes off of, but I'm sure as hell not complaining. 

Walking so close next to him as we're leaving the bar, it makes my mind race. He hasn't touched literally any part of my body yet even casually, and I feel like my skin is on fire. There was something about him. Something different, something that made my gut churn with excitement. The fact that he wanted me.. It almost doesn't feel real. I fight the urge to pinch myself just in case. He holds the door open for me as we leave. 

"Thank you, Strade." I say with a shy smile. I wonder if he can tell how excited I am by my voice, my demeanor. I want to stay calm and act cool for him but.. It's so hard to. I can't hold myself back, it doesn't feel right. His eyes light up at my response, and he grins. 

"So polite." He drawls out, and I swear he's trying to mess with me now. I'm almost certain he can read me like a book, he knows how he's affecting me. My stomach flips, and my heart hasn't left my throat since we got up from the booth. He leads me over to an expensive looking car. Christ, he has everything anyone could want in a guy. Where's the drawback? Where's the catch? I try not to think about it. I came out tonight to feel good, and I think I'm gonna get my wish. 

"Do you have your own car?" He asks, turning to me. I'm almost embarrassed, though I try not to show it. I'm a college student coming from a small town.. I don't have much in the way of money to begin with, never mind a car. Plus, it's not like I had somewhere to be. But being in front of this obviously wealthy, very hot man has me a little self-conscious. Nevertheless, I shake my head. 

"No, I walk mostly." He smiles at my answer, which is a welcome surprise to me. I'm not used to someone just... not judging me. Regardless of our differences. He opens the car door for me, and I thank him again. He hums in appreciation, and my heart jumps. Man, he is making me lose it. I've completely lost every urge to be anything but Strade's little lost puppy, at least for tonight. I sit myself down in the passenger seat, and take in the beautiful interior. Perfectly clean, not even an empty water bottle to be seen. I feel kinda bad having any dirt on my shoes getting in this car. He closes the door, and I absentmindedly look back to him as he walks around to the driver's side. My eyes drift down to my door as I wait for him to climb in himself.. And my breath hitches. 

There was no handle. 

I hear the driver's door open and my stomach goes from excited to very, very sick in an instant. Was this normal for expensive cars? Am I freaking out over nothing? I genuinely don't know. I'm praying to any and every God out there that I'm just being paranoid. He sits down, and closes his own door with a cheerful smile, and that doesn't help my gut feeling. I wish it did. He turns to look at me then tilts his head slightly. 

"Is there something wrong?" He asks, still wearing that smile he got in the car with. I shift nervously, thinking of how to word this without sounding accusatory, or like a dumbass. 

"...Um, maybe this is a weird question, but why isn't there a handle on your car door?" My voice comes out more choked than I wanted, this really could be nothing at all. Maybe there's a button I'm not seeing. I don't know anything about cars. Strade chuckles to himself, still smiling, and reaches over to touch my head. His touch is still electric on my skin, feeling his fingers through my hair...If I wasn't panicking, I would lean into the touch. Then, his gaze shifts into one I hadn't seen at all that night. Not even close. It's dark. Sinister. The energy surrounding him went from cheerful to maniacal in the blink of an eye. It's like my panic flipped a switch in his brain. His smile twists into a grin, but not like back in the bar. This was like watching a wolf eye down a sheep, baring it's teeth just to hear the sound of fear before striking. And I have a feeling I'll be fulfilling my end of that bargain soon enough. 

"Don't worry, I'll take care of you." Those last words make my eyes go wide with fear, and my immediate instinct is to make a break for it. I don't know what else to do. I try to reach for the door again, even knowing there's no handle. There has to be SOME way to open this door. But before I can even touch it, Strade's arm reels back, and bashes my head into the side of the car door. The pain burns throughout my skull, and it makes me croak out a near bark of pain. My vision begins to darken, and my other senses are dulling right behind it. Just as I feel my body give out, I feel Strade's hand on my chin. 

"Don't make so much noise when I'm driving. Save it for when we get to my place." 

I think I found the catch. 

———

Consciousness slowly creeps up on me, after God knows how long I've been out. My head is pounding. What the fuck happened to me.. As I sit there for a moment still trying to wake up, it all comes rushing back. Fuck. That wasn't a weird dream, then. Strade knocked me out. Now, in the present, that begs the question; where am I? It's dark, and my brain is still foggy from the hit. I try to rub my eyes to get a better idea of where I've been taken to.. When I can't move my arms. A pang of panic shocks its way through me as I finally register the ropes tied tightly around my wrists. I can't move. My breathing starts to pick up again, but this time it's.. Confusing. I'm terrified, of course. But another part of me is, excited? Not in a giddy sense. In a way that sends heat to my stomach and lower than I'd prefer. Goddamn it, this is not how I should be reacting right now. I don't wanna bring any attention to myself, especially now, so I try to stay still and take in my surroundings. At least get a better idea of my situation. Just how much immediate danger am I in?  
I feel a cold pole against my back, which I assume is a pipe but I can't twist my body enough to check. Next thing I notice is the floor. It's definitely concrete, that too is cold and I can feel the rough texture through my pants. I hesitate for a moment before looking up for the first time. From what I can tell in the darkness, I seem to be in either a garage or basement, though I can't hear any noise from wind or otherwise so I assume basement. Figures. There's a sort of work station in front of me, wooden cabinets and countertop, with a board of tools on the wall separating the cabinets on the wall and floor. To its left is a table power saw, which doesn't help the whole panic thing. Then there's the... Oh god, the smell. It's sharp, and coppery. My stomach drops again. But before I can think any further on the hell space I'm in, my thoughts are interrupted by slow thumping down a set of stairs behind me. The lights come on, and I instinctively shut my eyes to protect them from the sudden change. When I open my eyes again, there stands the man from the bar. Strade. 

"Oh! You're finally awake!" He flashes that smile from the bar again, cheerful as ever, as if I'm not tied up in his basement. I should be angrier about this. I should be upset. The only thing I'm even remotely upset about is him knocking me out. We could've talked... But maybe he would've done that anyway, had I not tried to leave. I don't know. 

"How ya feeling Y/N?" He says in a way that's oddly caring for the situation, but with a twinge of something darker I can't quite place. It only confuses me further. But I don't want to upset him. Maybe my best option is to just play along. 

"M-..my wrists hurt.." I say honestly, hoping that gets me on his good side rather than the alternative. His eyes darken, but his smile stays, though it feels.. Different. Not upset. He seems almost pleased. 

"Did I tie you too tight?" His words are lower now, that growl from earlier creeping in ever so slowly. He walks closer to me, making my heart jump with hope.  
Is he gonna loosen the ropes? He leans in, so close I can almost feel his breath as he speaks. 

"I can't help it." He grins. 

"You look nice with some rope burn." His words come out teasingly. Fuck, fuck. I'm not hard but I can feel my body trying to make it happen. My entire body heats up, my shoulders tensing. I shifted on the floor trying to distract from how I'm reacting to all of this. I suddenly wish the floor were colder. I look up at him, fear and confusion stinging my eyes. What's wrong with me? He sees the look in my eyes and pouts his lips just a bit. 

"Aww, are you scared?" In more ways than one, yes. He grins as I shrink back and struggle with words. 

"I.. ah, k-kind of, yes.." My voice is starting to shake now, it's getting increasingly harder to hide my mix of feelings. He giggles at my answer. 

"I promise it won't hurt!" He says in a sing-song way, and lets out a hearty laugh. That should scare me more. It does, but not in the way I want. If he were being mean or cold to me, this would be so much easier to understand and deal with. Black and white. But here I sit in the confusingly horny gray area.  
"Does that make you feel better?" I genuinely can't tell if he cares about my answer in this case. This is such a weird situation, I have no idea how to feel.

"Oh! I forgot!" He pulls back from being so close, and I cringe at how my heart feels about him leaving my space.  
"Before we get started, you want something to eat? Drink?" He smiles at me, and I look at him confusedly. What? He doesn't sound like he's kidding, or even teasing. My brain totally floats over the 'Before we get started' part. He's offering me food? Before I can even think on it, I feel my stomach churn. Shit, I haven't eaten since lunch before I went to the bar. I don't know how long it's been since then. I'm starving. I decide to try my luck. 

"..I could use something to eat, if that's okay.." I say softly, but loud enough for him to hear. I can't look at him, I have enough trouble asking for things in a normal social setting. I shouldn't feel bad about inconveniencing my kidnapper. Yet... 

"Sure!" His voice sounds delighted. I look back up at him after his response, to see him walking over to one of the upper cabinets. I can't get a look at what's inside from this angle, but I hear the crinkling of plastic as he reaches inside. He turns back to me with a wrapped bar in hand. He unwraps it, and holds it out in front of me. Oh yeah, I guess since my arms are bound I can't eat it myself. I wish I had thought about that before my answer. 

"You're gonna feed me?" I ask, feeling my heart rate rise again. 

"I don't want you to starve!" He says with a tone that practically says 'Didn't I say I'd take care of you?'. A near smile tugs at my lips. I hate myself for it, but his words do make me feel better. At least he's not trying to make me suffer in every way. Maybe this'll be fine. I lean forward and begin to eat, while he waits patiently. This feels so incredibly intimate, in a completely different way than sex. I'm so vulnerable. He could do anything. And he's feeding me. I hate the silence as I eat, he just watches me, like an owner watching his dog eat dinner. I wanted to be his puppy but... This isn't exactly what I had in mind. 

"Not bad, hm?" He says as I finish. It was sweet, blueberry I think. Some kind of fruity protein bar. It was like something I'd pick up myself, so I nod appreciatively, and thank him. I'll take any kindness he wants to give me. He smiles brightly once again, and pulls out something that kills my relief, and replaces it with fear.

A large hunting knife.

I squirm nervously. I don't think he wants to kill me, not yet at least, but the uncertainty makes my adrenaline rush. 

"Strade, what are you doing?" I ask, fear now extremely present in my voice. He leans closer in and I back up against the pipe. I have no fucking clue what his angle is here. 

"Your clothing's in the way." He says, as if it was obvious what he was doing. My throat tightens, and I feel my face flush as he shoves the knife under my sleeves, and starts to tear them up. I need to do something. Need this situation to change somehow. My body was screaming at me for a million different reasons. If I tell him something he wants to hear, maybe he'll be nicer to me? 

"P-please Strade, you don't need to do this I'll, I'll do anything you want.." I'm not gonna lie, part of me wanted to say that from the get go. To just give in to him.. And my pleading seems to have actually caught his attention. He looks away from his work, and into my eyes. He stares at me for a moment, trying to read if I mean it. I stare back, trying to tell him that I do. 

"Really?" He sounds intrigued, hopeful. I shiver, and nod. 

"Yes.. Anything." I manage to not stutter, but my voice still shakes. I can't help it. He leans back against the countertop, and taps the knife thoughtfully to his bottom lip. He keeps looking me up and down, trying to decide my fate. I can't help but imagine what I must look like to him right now. Clothes partially torn, eyes tired and pleading.. He seems to really like what he sees. Then I see something click in his brain, he definitely thought of something. He grins at me. 

"All right." He circles around me, and I can feel him starting to untie the ropes around my wrists. I look up at him, very confused, and he leans back on the counter. 

"Take off the rest of your clothes," He says, watching me carefully. He raises up his knife and waves it, as if to remind me it's there. Like I could forget.  
"and stay on the floor." There's the threat I was waiting for. I gulp, look down at my clothes then back to him.. Then I nod. I pull off my ripped shirt, and reach toward my pants zipper before looking up at him to see how he’s reacting. No one's ever watched me strip before, and I don't know how to act. But he's starting to look impatient. He doesn't want a show, he wants the clothes gone. I can do that.  
I slip my pants off quickly from underneath me, and carefully kick off my shoes and socks. My face goes red as I suddenly realize I only have one thing left to take off. Should I ask? I don't want to upset him, but if I can have at least one layer of clothing hiding any obvious changes in my mood, I'd love that. 

"Ah, um.. Do you want me to.. Should I take off my underwear..?" I ask very carefully. I can feel my breathing already getting heavier just by asking that, and I'm trying so desperately to not get hard. It's so fucking difficult. To my relief, he smiles at me. 

"You can leave it on. For now." I see him look down at my boxers, and holy fuck. There's no way I'm getting out of this without getting hard. I'm just biding my time at this point. I swallow, my mouth feeling drier by the second. He steps forward to me, and crouches down close. My heartbeat is in my ears now. Every single one of my senses is heightened. He thrusts his knife towards me, and I take a sharp breath in. Then I stare, as he flips it around in his hand, holding the hilt out to me. 

"Take it." He's smiling again, and while I'm confused, I'm far too deep into this to refuse or delay this any longer. He'll tell me what he wants me to do. I take the knife from him slowly, and look up at him, waiting for my instructions. He stands again, and looks down at me. I've never felt smaller in my entire life. I'm completely at his mercy. He hangs on the moment, just watching me be frightened for a second before speaking again in a familiar growl. 

”Cut yourself." He looks me dead in the eyes as he says this, and I know for a fact he isn't kidding. I don't need to ask. Asking would be a bad choice here. He smirks when he sees my eyes go wide. I look to the knife and down at my bare legs, scars already present. Did he see..? I take a breath in, and grip the knife tightly. I've never done this in front of anyone. No one even knew. To be doing this in such an already intimate situation.. I feel my cock twitch at the thought. Fuck.  
I lower the knife to my right leg, starting to shake. I press the blade to my skin, exhale, and rake it across. The sharp pain bubbles through the muscles on my thigh, adrenaline flooding my brain. I can't control my voice anymore, I let out an involuntary soft moan and feel my body heat up with fighting the pain, and heavy, heavy arousal. If this continues I won't be able to hold back my erection. I whimper as I watch the blood bead up from the wound. I can't tell if he's noticed that this isn't just me reacting to the pain. Now I'm trembling, as the adrenaline rush leaves me starting to get foggy. 

"Mmmm.." Strade hums approvingly, and the way he's looking at me... Another twitch. I feel like I'm losing my mind. 

"Did I... I-Is that, good?" I breathe out shakily, feeling the burn of my face ever present now. His grin widens, his tongue swiping across his lips momentarily. 

"More." He's fixated on the cut I just made, staring like he's hungry for it I grip the knife tight again, and bite my lip hard. I'm still foggy from the last cut so I don't even think before speaking. 

"Y-yes, sir." I say, looking back down to my legs. I hear him take in a breath at my words, and that makes me all the more eager to continue. I breathe in deeply, push the blade down on my other thigh, and exhale as I cut deeper than before. I want to impress him. I want to make him feel good. This is my chance.

"A-ahh, fuck.." I moan a little louder than I meant to, and now I feel my dick pressing up against the fabric of my underwear. I can't control my body's response to this anymore. It feels too good. I hear Strade shift from leaning against the counter, and my eyes dart up to his. He's looking right at my cock. Fuck. 

"Oh? Meine Schatz, look at you.. I knew you were special." His face is flushed, and his voice sounds so rough.. I want to keep going. I think he wants me to. My brain is so turned on and electrified with pain induced adrenaline, I have to ask. 

"S-strade.. Can I please cut myself again.." I'm desperate, I want to feel his gaze on me like I'm made of gold. This is the only thing that matters to me right now. I've never been this hard before, I feel like I'm on fire. He looks at me with wide eyes, and I can't believe I surprised him.. But God, that feels so good. 

"Hah.. Yes, of course you can Y/N." His words come out so breathy, it makes me start to pant. Just before I go to cut again, I see him start to palm his cock through his pants. I feel dizzy. Fuck, I want him so bad. I need him. I put the knife to my left bicep, and without thinking, cut the deepest I ever have. I let out a strangled moan as I do, the pain is nearly blinding. My entire body is aching in pain, and yet all I can focus on is how much I want him to touch me. I wanna be good for him, but I'm so close to begging him for any kind of contact.  
I look up, praying that he liked what I did. He has one hand in his hair, almost gripping it, and his other hand is tight on his dick. He's panting too. Thank fuck. I'm so foggy, I know I'm starting to sway a bit but I don't care. I don't care at all. Suddenly, I hear his shoes scrape across the concrete, and I snap out of my trance to feel him cupping my face with one hand, and taking the knife from me with the other. I don't have the strength to hold onto it. 

"Ah.. Hah, you..." His words are so quiet, like they’re meant only for me. The world doesn't get the luxury of being in this moment. We're the only two people on Earth. He presses his forehead to mine, before quickly leaning in and kissing me hard. I immediately kiss him back, fighting to stay conscious with how dizzy I am with lust, and sheer pain. I moan uncontrollably as he rakes his fingers through my hair, pulling me in closer and closer. He only stops for a moment to catch his breath, and then I see him catch a glimpse of the knife in his hand, like he forgot it was there. I'm staring at him, waiting for him to either toss it, or sheath it inside me, and I hope this doesn't stop. I never want this to stop. But he does neither. He brings the knife up to his mouth, looks me right in the eyes, and starts to lick off my blood that's still on the blade. He pushes his knee between my legs, pressing hard against my cock. 

"Oh, sh-shit Strade!" I whine, my breathing erratic as I feel pleasure course through my veins. This feeling, after so much pain.. Is heaven. This is unlike anything else I've ever felt. After he licks the knife completely clean, he tosses it off across the room, grabbing my face with both hands now. 

"So good.. So good for me.." He moans in between kisses, both of us getting more desperate by the second. He's rocking his hips against me, and the feeling pulses through me like I'm being shocked, tension starting to build in my stomach. 

"Gonna make you feel so good.." I whimper at his words, my cock aching against his knee. My hips buck as I lift my arms up to grasp at his back, pulling him closer with what little strength I have. He groans against my lips, rocking forward one more time with deliberate force. I almost cum just from that, and I think he can tell, because he pulls back, panting hard. 

"Uh-uh. We're not done yet, liebchen." A grin stretches wide across his face, and much to my dismay he gets up. I don't have time to whine at him before he pushes me down on my back, wrenching my hips up, and pulling my underwear off in one go. I feel the cold air against my dick and whimper. I'm already leaking precum so I feel it every time I shift even slightly. Strade positions himself between my legs, and starts to unbutton his pants. My heart jumps. Finally. Finally, holy fuck. I've never wanted anything more. He pulls his cock out from his boxers, and I shiver. He's big. He lines himself up to me, looks me right in the eyes, and pushes all the way in, hard. 

"AH, Fuck, fuck, fuck.. Strade, Strade p-please I.. oh God." I'm babbling nonsense at him now, my entire body on fire with every thrust. It burns bad, I know I'm gonna be so sore after this. That's exactly what I want. I don't want to forget this. I want to dream of this every night, have it branded inside my brain. He leans down and growls against my neck. 

"S-so good.. All mine, you're all mine." I feel his teeth bite my neck as he says that and I make a high pitched moan, feeling close to the edge. I need to tell him, I have to tell him. 

"Yes, yes God I'm yours.. Only yours.. Please, please I-" Before I can finish my sentence, I feel his hand on my cock, and I can't breathe. My throat tightens as I feel him quickly stroke me up, down, up, and down in time with his thrusts. 

"That's right.. That's right, come on Hündchen, cum for me." His thrusts are getting harder, more erratic, and I can't hold on anymore. My eyes well up with tears from the overwhelming amount of sensations I'm feeling, and I buck up into his hand. Digging my nails into his back, I cry out his name as I cum hard. He fucks me relentlessly through my orgasm, and I hear him panting heavily as he's pushing me down against the floor, my back rubbing nearly raw on the concrete. His hips stutter as I'm now openly crying from the overstimulation.  
He growls low, and loud against my neck as I feel him push as hard as he can, once, twice, then one last time before I feel him cum inside me, warmth filling my body. He and I lay there for a moment, catching our breath. Holy fuck. My body won't stop shaking, even after he stopped moving, I feel every inch of my body at once. I'm aware of every cell, every vein. They all burn intensely. I hope this feeling never stops. Strade lifts his head from my neck, and looks at me for a moment, brushing his thumb over my cheek. I lean into his touch. 

"All mine.." He whispers against my lips, before kissing me again, this time feeling like a reward. I made him happy. I really made him happy. He pulls back, and gently slides himself out of me. Somehow, even after all this, I miss the contact. He looks down at me, at his work, at the mess that he's made me into. He smiles proudly. 

"I've decided to give you a little gift, Y/N. Stay right there for me, I'll be back in one moment." He stands, puts himself back into his pants, looks back at me one last time before climbing the stairs. I miss him. But I am grateful for the minute to catch my breath, and think on everything that just happened. I sit up ever so slightly, just to get a look at myself. I'm covered in my own blood, smeared all over my naked body. It catches up to me now how dizzy I am from blood loss, and my head pounds. God, I hope I don't die from this. I don't want this to be the last time. Strade wouldn't let me die, right? He said I'm his.. So I can only hope.  
After a moment of only hearing my own breath and heartbeat, I finally hear the door clang open, and his footsteps thump down the stairs again. It's funny how quickly things can change. He walks over to me, grinning.  
"You're so good just for me.. Doing exactly as I said.. Here, this is for you." He holds up a silver collar, that he clicks open and raises to my neck. I don't ask questions, I make sure it's easy for him to get it on me. With another click, the collar is secured. He steps back to admire his work. To admire me. 

"A collar for my little Hündchen. I made it myself." He smiles that bright, beautiful, cheerful smile. I love him. I'm so happy he chose me. I move my hand up to gently touch the metal collar, feeling its cold surface against my fingers. 

"Thank you, Strade... I love it so much." My voice is hoarse, and nearly breathless. The cold helps keep me conscious too, so I'm very grateful. He lets out a little laugh, and my heart beams. 

"Hahah! I'm glad. I thought you would." He crouches down to me to look me in the eyes, and his tone gets a tad more serious. "Now.. I don't think I need to tell you this, but with that collar on, you won't want to step outside the house. You're mine now.. This is where you belong." He looks at me waiting for my response with something like.. Love? I melt in my place, and nod. 

"Yes, yes of course. I don't want to leave. I'm all yours, Strade." I say softly to him, and only him. My words are his, my body is his. He smiles brightly at me once more. 

"You really are something. Let's get you all patched up, ja?" He holds his hand out to me to help me up, I nod enthusiastically, yet I almost collapse when I try to stand. We laugh together, and he holds me tight to his side as he takes me to the counter to stitch me up. 

I'm his.

I'm all his.


End file.
